


we are not at war (we are having a nervous breakdown)

by Pistol



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Movie Never Happened, Alternate Universe - Roque is a cop and a Brother-in-law, Chronic Pain, Coping, Culture Shock, PTSD, hearing loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol/pseuds/Pistol
Summary: Jensen takes his first steps to become a civilian on a Monday. It's incredibly anticlimactic.
Kudos: 18





	we are not at war (we are having a nervous breakdown)

Jensen takes his first steps to become a civilian on a Monday. It's incredibly anticlimactic. 

The clock keeps moving and the people scattered around him waiting their own turns are no less impatient then they were before when Jensen is dismissed after being handed a packet and directed towards a second station where Jensen's told someone will be able to tell him all about his healthcare options and about support groups full of people who will understand what he's going through. The second desk officer - someone new, someone Jensen has never met before - calls him _Sir_ and patiently highlights the areas Jensen needs to sign as he flips through the pile of paperwork as he explains what Jensen is signing. Jensen nods along, pretends that he can hear the rest of what the desk officer is saying and that he isn't carefully reading his lips. He leaves as soon as he can, stopping only at the local PD to pick up an application for a CCW.

As soon as Jensen gets home he ends up opening the bottle of whiskey that some of the guys had sent to his hospital room all those months ago. He drinks deeply and reminds himself that everything is going to be fine. He'll go home. He'll find a job. He'll watch his niece grow up in person instead of by photo attachments in emails. It's gonna be fine. 

It's gonna be _freeing_. 

Jensen believes himself right up until he falls asleep on his couch, too drunk to stay awake.

+

Jensen wakes up Tuesday to his cell phone vibrating angrily under his pillow. Who ever is calling he can barely hear them, but he understands enough. 

Later Jensen doesn't remember hanging up the phone, much less how the skin on his knuckles was broken.

+

Jensen sits on the raggedy green sofa in his Roque's living room with Roque and a stranger who keeps talking about caskets options. The stranger has glossy photos of open caskets and flowers displays that he shows Jensen between soft words and understanding smiles. Jensen tries to pay attention it all but half way thought the man stops prompting Jensen for his answers and Rogue starts deciding for both of them. 

Roque's always been a good guy like that.

+

Beth's door is closed that night. When Jensen enters her room unsure of what to do or say to make it all better, but desperate to make it better somehow she watches him with closed off eyes as he rambles to her. At some point the noise he's making stops, replaced with ugly sobs that Beth mirrors after a while.

Roque finds them curled up on the floor together, a weary look pinching his face as he guides a sleepy Beth back to her bed before helping Jensen off the floor and into the guest bed. 

+

By Sunday the pain in his side and leg is almost bearable but the ringing in Jensen's ears still hasn't stopped like the doctors had assured him it should. The ringing is still there when Jensen finds himself in the back of a long a black car in his dress uniform while Roque watches him, one massive hand holding Beth's tinnier one in his as she looks out the window. Roque's eyes are tired when he glances at Jensen, and it's hard to ignore how much it looks like Roque's been crying.

"It's okay," Jensen says, hoping Roque doesn't notice the lie. "We're all gonna be okay."

From the way Roque's face crumples, Jensen's attempts are a failure. He doesn't remember seeing Roque ever look so helpless. But then again, Jensen can't remember getting dressed this morning or who bandaged his hands. 

The worst part, Jensen thinks, is that he can't forget why he's dressed this way. He hadn't planned on ever wearing this itchy uniform ever again, but then again he'd never planned on burying his sister.

+

It's becoming a bit of a pattern, but Jensen doesn't remember much of the funeral. He makes a mental note to call his doctor, wondering afterwords if he'll forget that too.

Jensen does remember seeing guys from his not-so-old division mixed in with the people at the funeral. He remembers their firm hand shakes but has forgotten their platitudes. He remembers Jolene straightening a pin on his dress jacket and watching detachedly as her lips move as she spoke to him. Jensen had nodded and tried to smile, but it only made Jolene look away from him and made Pooch grasp his shoulder too tightly when he forced him into a hug. 

Jensen remembers the silence Beth carried with her like a cloud for most of the service, he wishes he could forget the way she looked when the casket was covered in dirt.

+

The days keep moving and Jensen keeps moving with them. He goes into screensaver mode when he can, lets muscle memory take over and that seems to keeps him from screaming, crying, or beating someone to death. The emotional fence works well enough keep what ever it is that's trying to burst from Jensen's skin from reaching the surface. 

He finds himself parked on the road outside the graveyard's fence more often than not these days. Trips to the store or the VA abandoned at the sight of the familiar place.

It's Pooch who finds him there, his green truck pulling in front of Jensen's car. He walks over, still in his BDUs, and leans against the car next to Jensen. They stay there, mostly silent until the sky starts to turn into a mess of orange and pinks.

"You know where I am, and sure as shit don't have to talk about it but I'm there if you want someone there." Pooch says before he makes his way back to his truck. He's started making a point to turn and face Jensen when he's talking now which makes Jensen wonder who else has noticed. He doesn't try to hug Jensen or force another meeting, he simply nods and makes his way back to his truck. 

+

Jensen moves into an apartment complex on the other side of town. It's far enough away from the others that they won't be able to use a _just passing by_ excuse for stopping by and close enough that visiting Roque and Beth won't be a full day kind of trip.

Roque offers to help him move in but all Jensen has is four duffle bags and the useless key to a storage unit he stopped paying years ago when he thought he'd be in until he got old enough to retire. Roque shows up with Beth anyways, bringing a Pixar movie and ordering pizza for them.

The whole night is one part awkward and one part tragic with memories of Jennifer bustling around in the kitchen on movie nights and burning her attempts at homemade pizza until Roque took over and either salvaged their dinner or called the local pizza place for back up. 

+

Roque is suddenly there, _all the time_, looming and watching Jensen like he's something fragile. Possibly even dangerous. Something Roque needs to watch closely around Beth.

There are lines Jensen knows not to cross. There are things he can’t do without. So Jensen gives him his best smile and makes eye contact and nods, _I'm okay, really_, but it only seems to encourage Roque's behavior. The grey at Roque's temples is getting worse, just like all the other things in Jensen's life.

+

Jensen forgets his follow ups with his doctor at the VA three times. He remembers the fourth because his leg is killing him and his prescription bottles are getting emptier and emptier.

The paper work is easier to deal with than the looks his doctor gives him.

+

Roque shows up at Jensen's unannounced, looks around once before his jaw clenches. Jensen opens his mouth to maybe tell him to fuck off or to tell Roque to stop judging him for forgetting to clean for the past month or so, but then Jensen's arm hurts and he's being physically dragged from his house and towards Roque's car. 

It really shouldn't be so easy for a person to be kidnaped in plain view.

Roque turns, grabbing Jensen's chin harshly and forcing him to look at him. "You're coming home with me." 

It's not a suggestion and it makes something under Jensen's skin rolls in anger at this but he can see Beth sitting in the passenger seat watching them both. She looks worried and she looks scared and she looks smaller than Jensen thinks a kid should. 

It's not a good look on her, and it's not a good feeling to know he caused it.

The fight leaves Jensen.

+

"It's not a big deal-"

Roque cuts him off with a look, stirring violently at the pot on the stove before moving one hand up to cover his mouth. He watches Jensen expectantly before dropping his hand and staring resignedly into his pot. 

"You didn't hear anything, did you?" 

Jensen bristles. "I heard something," he protests, "it was just … hard to make out."

Roque grabs a handful of basil, ripping it viciously into tiny pieces over the pot. "You've talked to the doctor about it?"

"It's come up."

"Were you going to talk to me at any point? Were you even going to admit-"

"Fuck _you_," Jensen tries not to yell but fails, "I baked in the sun for two _fucking_ days over there, so yeah, there's some health issues from that whole bleeding everywhere and brain swelling bit, but I'm dealing with it."

"Dealing with it," Roque smirks, shaking his head, "somehow I don't think that's the word I'd use for all _this_. You need help, you need-"

Jensen gets up on shaky legs, leaves the kitchen and lets the front door slam closed behind him. When he's climbing into his car he finally notices the light is on in Beth's room, two tiny hands pressed to the window as she stares wordlessly after him.

Angry tears burn at Jensen's eyes during the whole ride home.

+

Roque doesn't relent. Roque doesn't stop looking at Jensen like he needs saving. Roque is fucking annoying that way.

"Aren't you worried I'm going to fuck up and do something to scare Beth?" Jensen sneers in the hope Roque will stop showing up.

Roque stops, his whole body sagging as he turns to look over Jensen. 

Jensen swallows, wishing he could pull his words from the air, make them vanish.

"I worry about that shit all the time." Roque says slowly, carefully, "And sometimes, bro, I fuckin' _hate_ you because you already are scaring her." He exhales, "You made my daughter _cry_, Jensen. She's a kid but she's not stupid."

"I-"

"Shut up," Roque hisses, "just shut _up_. We're family, you shit head. Try and remember that next time you wanna skip a week of showers or show up drunk. 'Cause when you hurt? _We_ hurt."

+

Jensen shows up to his next appointment on time, his doctor looking mildly surprised when the nurse brings him in.

"Mr. Jensen," he greets cautiously. "Is there a problem with your prescription?"

"No," he tries to shake off the shitty feeling he gets from the doctor's assumption, "But there are some things I think we need to talk about."

+

Roque goes all out for dinner after Jensen brings up his doctor's appointment that day. He doesn't say _thank you_, I'm proud of you, or _about fuckin' time_ but Jensen hears it all the same when Roque snatches up the print outs on sensorineural hearing loss that Jensen brought with him.

"So are we going to be learning ASL or what?" He asks, shooting a neutral look over the top of the papers before cautioning Beth to eat slower on reflex.

"They're going to give me hearing aid for now. If it's still an issue my doctor says we can see if I'm a candidate for a cochlear implant." Jensen shrugs, "He did seem pretty impressed with my skill with speechreading, my biggest problem is groups so ASL isn't out of the picture completely."

Roque opens his mouth to speak but Jensen is distracted by a tug on his sleeve before he can read Roque's lips. 

Beth is looking up at him with a thoughtful frown, "What's a cochlear implant?"

"It's the first step in my plans to become Robocop," Jensen mock-whispers to her. He's stopped from saying more when Roque's napkin is thrown at his face.

+

The hearing aid Jensen is given is Mini BTE and he'd be lying if he didn't enjoy Beth's comment that it made him look like a spy.

He takes a few weeks to get used to it, only wearing it only at home and then only wearing it as long as it's not bothersome. It's more difficult than he expected - cellphone conversations can be tricky, voices are slightly off-pitch, and more than once he debates destroying it if only to stop the background noise.

It's worth it though. Jensen keeps telling himself this, trying to make himself see the simply joys in hearing Beth's voice.

+

Remembering to wear his hearing aid isn't all that bad, but physical therapy is a special kind of hell. It's Roque's idea to start scheduling Jensen's PT appointments on the weekends so he and Beth can pick him up afterwards. 

After every session Beth is waiting outside, usually on Roque's shoulders, eager to hand Jensen another sticker for his hard work. It shouldn't be as motivating as it is, but the growing collection of stars, bunnies, and smiley faces that start adorning his gym bag sometimes are the difference between skipping a session and actually getting out of bed.

+

Jensen's leg gives out for the first time in the checkout line at Kroger's. He twists around, just a fraction of an inch to reach for his wallet, and that's enough. The pain comes from nowhere, shooting up his leg as his joint refuses to stay locked in place. He's crashing to the floor before he can even think. 

The area goes quiet and he can feels the burn of embarrassment immediately, only made worse by the anger he feels from the way the other people in the grocery store watch him out of the corners of their eyes, too many lips moving to catch what they're saying and of fucking _course_ his hearing aid is probably on his bed stand. 

It's somehow worse when Roque says nothing, only offering him a hand to pull him up.

Jensen stares at Roque who stares back calmly.

"Does it hurt too bad to stand? Should I get your cane?" Roque asks. 

And Jensen knows he should be grateful, because no one else can seem to ask him anything anymore. They can't ask how he's dealing with the events that led to the injury. No one can asks about his leg or about his hearing. No one brings up his sister, no one can even say her fucking _name_.

But Roque will.

For some reason, Jensen can't bring himself to be grateful about that.

The people around him are still trying in vain not to look directly at him. Jensen can practically smell the pity hanging in the air.

He wants to yell. Scream. Throw things and make a scene to embarrass everyone else as badly as he is. He wants to say things to make them all share in the pain that _doesn't_ get better with fucking _time_.

Instead, he lets Roque pull him up and sits on an uncomfortable metal bench at the front of the store while Roque goes to grab his cane from the car. 

Jensen sits there with his head down and feels the eyes on him, and tells himself there are worse things to be angry and hurt over than wounded pride and pity. That there is a woman in the ground who will never see her daughter again and that makes having a tantrum in front of a dozen people feel pointless.

Lately, though, _everything_ seems a little pointless.

+

Pooch is invited over by Roque. Jensen, as usual, is the last to know.

Jensen is chopping tomatoes and trying to make the right faces at everyone and to speak in the right tones when Roque's cell phone rings on the counter behind him. It's loud, his hearing aid turned up a little too high, the knife is sharp, and Jensen despite his years trying to train his jumpiness away is still easily startled.

The blood comes quickly and Jolene makes a soft noise when she grabs Jensen's injured index finger to examine it. Jensen's doesn't feel her touch at all.

Jensen's not sure who pulls his hand down or wraps the towel around his hand, because all he can hear is the faint sounds of Pooch and Jolene starting to worry while Roque tells him _it's okay, it's just a little blood, shit, it's okay._

But it _isn't_ okay, because what ever it is that's been living under Jensen's skin for all these months has decided to come out alongside his blood. His whole body feels lighter, like each drop of blood soaking into the green tea towel weighs a hundred pounds. But that can't be right because Antoine Lavoisier would be spinning in his grave, and _wow_, speaking of spinning Jensen didn't remember the room spinning so much before, but maybe if he closes his eyes-

+

When Jensen opens his eyes he's somehow found his way to Jennif- _Roque's_ guest bed and is laying with his head on Roque's shoulder. He tries to correct this by sitting up or moving away, however his body feels like it did just after he finished Basic and Roque's always had better upper arm strength than him, the bastard.

"You gave us a scare." 

Jensen tries to sit up again with no luck and settles for turning his head to try and see his captor. His face feels tight with dried tear trails he doesn't remember crying. 

"Sorry," he lies, scrubbing at his face.

Roque makes a deep sound, one Jensen can feel rumbling against his skin, and Jensen has never felt as much like a failure as he does now. 

"You owe me a tea towel."

"I'll buy you new one when I'm no longer being forcibly cuddled," Jensen mutters as he focuses of his finger. It's wrapped in itchy gauze and a sluggish red line is blooming against the white wrapping. "Was the cut deep?" 

"You'll live. Jo stitched you up." 

Jensen wonders how much blood he's lost. He wonders if in the process he's lost his mind, if maybe he lost that a while ago. For a moment he debates asking Roque for a second opinion, but quickly dismisses the idea. 

Jensen refuses to loose Roque. He _can't_ loose Roque too.

"Is everyone okay?" 

Roque raises an eyebrow. "Beth saw you black out in the kitchen after seeing you walk around like a zombie ever since Jenny died," he says dryly.

"You're so tactless." 

Roque shrugs and the arm holding Jensen against him tightens, pulling him into Roque's chest, "You'd only beat yourself up more if I sugar coated it. You're a lot like her in that aspect."

The silence stretches on for a while before Jensen realizes he's crying. Again. Apparently this is becoming a _thing_.

"I don't know what to do here, bro," Roque says eventually. “And she’s not here tell us.”

Jensen wants to apologize, but all he can do is close his eyes. 

"She died," Roque's voice is whispery thin and so dangerous that Jensen's lizard brain wants to _run, run, run._

"Roque-"

"No. You need to hear it. She died, Jensen, so now there's only us and Beth. And we have to take care of ourselves now, because she's not there to do it for us. She's not here to fix you or make the mac n'cheese the way Beth wants. She's not here to-" his voice cracks and dies between them.

"But, this? This thing you're doing?" Roque's voice is pure steel now, but his hands are gently rubbing patterns into Jensen's back, "I can't keep doing this. I wake up most days and wonder if you swallowed all your pills the moment I left you alone. And Beth- Beth wants to hug you but she's afraid if she does you'll loose it - because you _seem_ like you're about to loose it _all the time_."

"I-"

"And if you break my little girl's heart - well, you aren't allowed to break her heart." Roque's voice is low and raw when he finishes.

"I don't want to, I'm so..." Jensen's shaking now, because apparently he's lost any and all pride he once had. To make matters worse, the only thing stopping him from full blown hysterics is the hand on his back. He squeezes his eyes shut, and hopes it all just stops, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Roque shushes him, "We're gonna get through this, but you gotta help out too, yeah? I can’t do this alone." 

+

It gets better. 

Well, not really. Maybe not at all. But, depending on who you ask, some people would probably say Jensen's improving. 

The ringing in his ears has stopped and he doesn't need his cane all that often so Jensen decides to believe it too.

Roque kicks him out of his own house two months later. Roque throws Jensen a leather jacket that smells like Roque's aftershave and tells him to not bother coming home unless he manages to laugh or gets laid.

"It's for your own good," he says firmly, locking Jensen's front door and pocketing the house key before tossing Jensen the rest. "I'm going to come back and hide this somewhere later, and when you've met the requirements you can text me and I'll tell you where it is." With that, Roque climbs into his car and leaves Jensen clutching a set of keys and a jacket.

This was not the way he planned on spending his Saturday night.

+

Jensen drives until the feeling of unease passes. He pull into the first crowded bar he finds and sits in the parking lot for thirty minutes before heading in.

Three beers later the combination of the jacket and half hearted flirting pays off. She's short, her lips are painted a deep purple-red, and her smiles are beautiful even if they are forced. When she notices his mini BTE she looks at him in a way that isn't so much pitting as it is understanding and he finds himself returning the favor. 

Her name is Celia, and she slides into the stool next to his and buys him a beer. They talk about safe things, his ridiculous shirt, her job, and how he shouldn't trust a woman who expects him to buy all her alcohol for her. Jensen smiles at the right times and mimics the sound of laughter when the situation calls for it. It’s not as hard as he thought it would be.

"You don't have to," she tells him kindly.

"What?"

"Laugh," she means it, and that makes Jensen lean forward and tell her a truth they both know.

"You can do better than me tonight."

She just smiles, flipping her hair back and orders another round for them.

After her third beer she stands up, brushing off her jeans, "Give me your jacket and call us a cab."

Jensen hands over Roque's jacket and calls the cab as asked. Her eyes linger over his limp when they leave, but there's nothing in her gaze but mild curiosity so he slides in the cab behind her and doesn't argue when she gives the cab driver an address. 

She keeps her head on his shoulder the whole way there. When they get out, she pays before he can object, and takes his hand and leads him to a weathered door hidden between a small restaurant and a credit union.

"Should I get going?" Jensen asks, he doesn't really care either way but it's pretty clear neither of them are interested in more than what they've already shared.

Celia turns, key in hand and smiles fondly at him before opening the door, "Nope. We're not going to fuck, but I think we both could use a warm body in the bed next to us tonight." 

"Finally, a woman who isn't trying to use me for my body." It's the first time in a long time that his mouth has run off without him, and it feels _good_.

She laughs, her eyes crinkling with the sound. It sounds for a moment like the nicest thing Jensen's ever heard. Her dark eyes are wild and Jensen's can't help but smile back as she pulls him inside her door. 

They stumble up the stairs and while admittedly the stumbling on Jensen's part, it only seems to makes Celia laugh. It doesn't hurt to hear and is strangely kind which makes Jensen laugh along with her.

Celia touches his face lightly, before snorting and burying her face in his shoulder in a move that reminds Jensen of Roque. She looks up at him with tense shoulders and narrowed eyes which Jensen counters with a raised brow. Finally the moment passes, tension rolling off her shoulders in spurts.

"I have to warn you, I'm absolutely shit at cooking breakfast," he says with gravitas as he runs a still cautious hand over her hair. She leans into the touch and laughs again, loud and real, and a sound quickly becoming one of Jensen's favorites.

She leans in, kissing his forehead. "Don't worry, I'll cook for you."

+

In the morning Celia drags him to the restaurant next door, unlocking the door, and making herself busy preparing them breakfast. 

"We just opened it up last month," she says while deftly turning an onion into a mountain of diced bits, "so you better tell everyone in town how amazing the food here is."

It should be weird to be be awaiting breakfast with a one night stand who _isn't_ a one night stand, but it's not. It works. 

+

Over breakfast and orange juice Jensen finds himself laughing and feeling human. 

Celia makes him promise to return for a free meal before hustling both of them out the door as her morning staff starts trickling in. They share a cab on the way to pick up their cars at the bar and Jensen pays for their cab before Celia can. They exchange numbers and go their own ways, the dark circles under both of their eyes fainter than when they first met.

+

When Roque stops over to check up on him he gives Jensen the first genuine smile he's seen in a long time. 

"You good?"

"Mission accomplished," Jensen salutes cheekily.

Roque opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but Jensen interrupts what ever is coming by stealing a hug.

"I hate you so much," Roque fake mutters, latching on much the same way Celia had. 

"Yeah, yeah, just be grateful that I didn't come back with bodily fluids all over your jacket."

+

"You're in a good mood," Jolene says by way of greeting when she drops by. 

Jensen shrugs, busy by rearranging the magnets on his fridge to spell out something more lewd than the last time he was here. "I'm doing better. Got picked up by a foxy lady who wanted a transactional situation between us that involved Yelp reviews."

"Yelp reviews?" Joelene repeats dryly.

"Don't ask," Roque advises.

She rolls her eyes, plucking a handful of letters from Jensen's latest creation to form her own masterpiece of lewd fridge poetry.  
+

Celia texts him that same day telling him to come over and be her guinea pig at the restaurant. It's a drastic improvement of wallowing on his couch and re-heating the horrifying casserole Jolene sent home with him, so Jensen heads to the restaurant.

Over a meal they both end up acting more like old friends than people who met in a bar a week ago. Celia gives him a hug and fusses over his obvious lack of sleep. Jensen allows both, casually mentioning his friend had been curious about her. She hums absently and Jensen lets the topic go. He’s not picky, he’ll take what he can get.

+

Their long haired waiter presses a styrofoam box of left overs into Jensen hands before he leaves, "You should come by more often. It's good to see her happy. "

Jensen's eyes dart warily to Celia and back to the waiter, "We're not.. you know.."

The waiter rolls his eyes like that was obvious before turning and walking away.

+

Jensen comes by the next day for lunch, just in time to see Celia cursing at their computer.

"Problems?"

"The computer is possessed," Celia hisses, waving her arms at the offending item in question.

Jensen laughs, only to swallow his laughter when she turns her glare on him.

"I could take a look if you want?" He offers sheepishly.

Celia sizes him up before shrugging, and waving him over, "You can't make it any worse, I suppose."

+

The POS system is up and running again within half an hour and Celia stares in disbelief at him.

"How'd you do that?"

"Exorcism," Jensen says gravely, "you know, a little _Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare_ and some holy water. Does the trick every time."

Celia looks impressed but hides it well, "Where'd you learn that?"

"Oh, you know, I knew a guy in high school. He was pretty good with computers and got tired of fixing mine, so he showed me some stuff." 

Celia pauses, finger hovering over the screen before she continuing to enter orders. "You’re a weird one, you know that, right? Also, we're gonna get very drunk after the lunch rush leaves." With that she hustles off leaving him feeling off balance.

+

They get drunk on back steps of the resturant. Celia brings Tequila for Jensen and wrinkles her nose in naked judgement when Jensen asks for a lime. She drinks from a purple-glassed bottle that smells like death but makes her eyes slowly become glassy and her body loose. Jensen makes a point to ask what it is and where he can get some for Roque.

They drink in silence until they're brave enough to speak to each other.

She tells him about her family, about how they were mostly happy.

He tells her about the day he became an uncle. 

She counters with a story about her ex-husband and it goes down hill from there in a way that is more painless and calming than he expected. Jensen tells her about the explosion that didn't kill him but did permanently fuck up his knee and took a bit of the hearing in his left ear. She tells him about her brother who was a good boy and a kind soul. A boy who became a man who dwelled in his anger, loathing, and guilt. For some reason he can’t really remember, they also argue over football even though neither are fans and can’t really remember any teams other than the Cowboys and possibly the Jets? They aren’t sure on that last one.

"You and me," she slurs from his shoulder, "we shoulda met a long time ago."

"Well, you got me now," he promises, "we can get BFF tattoos in inappropriate places and the whole nine yards."

She laughs, the sound rough from more than just her drink. 

+

Jensen brings Roque and Beth to the restaurant, and it ends up not being the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. 

Roque and Celia get along, bonding quickly over a shared love of mocking people while pretending to be mature bastions of mature adulthood. They sit and commiserate loudly and at length about how Jensen needs to find a job and stop moping around. 

When Roque joins in Jensen knows he's been beaten. Grudgingly he agree's to start looking for a job.

+

Clay is not what Jensen expected from listening to Roque's rants about his boss.

He smells like stale coffee, has a Delta tattoo peeking out under his uniforms collar, and makes Jensen unconsciously move to stand at attention while Clay looks over Jensen's resume with disinterest before staring at him.

"I don't like computers."

Jensen blinks, "I don't like walnuts?"

Clay nods calmly, shuffling through the papers in front of him, "You'd never quality to be a police officer, your injuries would disqualify you."

"Well, thanks for your time and fuck you very much." 

"Sit your ass down, Jensen, I'm not through with you." Clay snaps, and Jensen has a moment of déjà vu where he's the new guy on his team and the CO is making sure he knows his place. 

He hesitates a moment, because random dudes can’t NJP you, but eventually gives in and sits down because this random dude can snitch on him to Roque.

"I can't send you to the Academy, but if you are good enough, I would be willing to hire you as a consultant in situations where we needed tech support."

Jensen finds himself blinking again, "Well... I'm good."

"Your military files are mostly blacked out, and I don't feel like calling a favor unless I know it's worth it." Clay taps a heavy pen on the desk in boredom, "And as much as I trust Roque, I'd need proof." he says with a meaningful look.

Jensen smiles widely, leaning back in his chair, "Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"Surprise me."

+

In retrospect, it wasn't his best idea, and Jensen should be lucky he isn't in jail. Or so Roque spends an hour or so yelling at him before handing him off to his partner Jolene. Jolene cuffs him upside his head any time he tries to speak and cuffs him twice if the words police brutality come out of his mouth.

After a while Clay strolls in and kicks them both from the interrogation room with a nod before locking the door. He throws a folder on the table in front of Jensen.

"So I called in a favor after all," Clay says dryly as he takes a seat across from him, flipping open the folder and removing all three sheets of paper.

"Corporal Jacob M. Jensen," Clay reads, "It says here you served under Colonel Fluttershy as a duel specialist on his team. Apparently you specialized in both Friendship and Magic," he drawls before looking up at Jensen, "Son, I wasn't aware the Army changed so much since I retired." 

"That's probably just a typo. Someone probably meant to type Tech and Communication, but hit the wrong key." Jensen smiles, "They're all crammed in so close together on keyboards these days so you know, it happens."

Clay stares calmly at him and Jensen sighs.

"It could have happened that way." 

"But it didn't."

Jensen shakes his head, "No idea, that's all way above my pay grade."

Clay sighs, looking over the papers in front of him critically, "You know, when I said surprise me, this," he says motioning to the folder's contents, "this alone would have worked."

Jensen chews on his lip, feeling Roque's pissed off glare through the two-way mirror, "You said 'surprise me'." 

Clay nods, "I did, and in the future I'm going to word my orders to you much more carefully."

"In the future?" 

"Yes." Clay pauses, "Well, only if you get the computers in the state lab to stop saying every thumbprint and DNA sample they run is mine." He gives Jensen a sour look, "You know, there are people who desperately need that information you fucked up in order to stop some very bad people."

"Which is why all the correct test results have been emailed to the officers who needed to know."

Clay frowns, "No shit?"

"No shit."

Clay tries very hard not to look impressed, but Jensen sees it. 

+

He gets the job.

And it'd be fucking super, if not for the fact he works three billable days in the first month.

"Isn't there anything else?" he whines to Clay, who's already starting to tuning him out.

"It's a small town, Jensen. We mostly give speeding tickets and break up fight's down at the Comedor on Saturdays."

"Can't you like, bus in some criminal masterminds just for a little while?"

Clay rolls his eyes, "Roque, get him out of my office before I kill him!" he bellows out the open door.

+

"I need money," he tells Celia over lunch. "Well, not yet, but my savings won't last forever."

"So get a job."

"Fuck that."

"Get disability."

"_Fuck_ that."

"Become a jewel thief."

Jensen pauses chewing, frowning thoughtfully.

Celia snorts, throwing a napkin at him, "Jensen, that's illegal. And you can't pull off the Catwoman suit." 

"Lies. What I lack in the chest department I more than make up with in my drool-worthy abs."

+

The credit union next door to Celia's closes down the next month. Jensen pauses, leaning heavily on his cane as he examines the paperwork in the window.

"It's freezing out here." Celia whines, "Let's go!"

Jensen nods, moving to follow her into the warmth of her house, "You think it would be hard to open a store?"

Celia stares at him, coat halfway off, and tilts her head, "No harder than owning a restaurant." she says cautiously. “Which, you know, is a constant nightmare that keeps me awake at night.”

Jensen hums, sitting down on her sofa, and rubbing at his knee.

"Why do you ask?"

+

Jensen invites everyone to the grand opening of his comic book shop two days before it opens.

"You really bought this whole shop?" Beth gushes excitedly.

"Oh my god, you're gonna fail. The IRS will shut you down." Celia says dramatically, "Do you even know what taxes and insurance are?"

"Seriously, bro?" Roque asks for the fifth time, "You didn't think this was something you should maybe discuss with me?"

"You're going into the costumer service industry?" Jolene asks.

"Do you have that Heavy Metal magazine?" Clay inquires.

The waiter from Celia’s wanders in in the middle of the madness, peering around at the walls before leaving just as quickly as he appeared. Jensen does his best not to dwell on that.

+

"You sure about this?"

Jensen shrugs, "I needed something to do."

"So you decided to buy a store and not tell anyone about it until it's almost opened."

"Well, I thought you'd all try to talk me out of it."

Pooch makes a soft sound, wiping his hands on a rag and leaning up against his car lift, "We would have tried to make sure you knew what you're getting into." he says gently, "You went from high school straight to the Army. You've never had any other job or any experience with something like this. So, yeah, we're gonna worry about you."

"I did my research." Jensen says irritably, "I didn't just walk in and buy the place right away."

Pooch smirks, "So, how long did it take you to buy the place?"

Jensen's ears turn pink, "You're a lousy best friend."

"How long, Jensen?"

"Two days."

Pooch snorts, "Well, I feel better than if you said one day."

+

The store opens with minimal fanfare on Monday. 

The store is small, but with bookshelves and stands Jensen is able to fit in a respectable amount of comics. Roque spends several minutes walking around it.

"I'm proud of you." he says quietly while looking at a life-size cardboard cutout of Stephanie Brown.

"You're a big softie." Jensen tells him.

"One of these day's I'm gonna kill you."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire." Jensen chants as he sticks out his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because I can't log into WoW due to server shenanigans and it seemed like a good idea to start posting old WIPs.


End file.
